


Song of the Century

by vampiremiw



Series: Ordinary World [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: DJ Otabek Altin, M/M, no one knows how to talk, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11644119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampiremiw/pseuds/vampiremiw
Summary: Otabek wants to be a DJ again, Yuri wants to be a good boyfriend. It works out pretty well.





	Song of the Century

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely works better if you read the rest of the series too
> 
> (this one is more or less a prequel to 21st Century Breakdown)

“Beka!”

Yuri pounds on the door.

“Otabek!”

Otabek’s not answering the door or his text messages. The curtains are closed so Yuri can’t see anything inside. He went grocery shopping after practice, then home to feed his cat, and they were going to meet back up at Otabek’s place, but he’s not answering the fucking door. He’s probably dead or something. Otabek’s got a key to Yuri’s place, but Yuri doesn’t have a key to his so, really, there’s no way to tell.

He kicks the door in frustration. “Otabek Altin, open the fucking door!” he yells.

A passing neighbor gives him a strange look.

Yuri’s not worried. Just annoyed. He growls, turns to take a couple deep breaths and look out at the fading twilight over the city, the sky a purpley-pink down at the edges. Pretty soon here it’ll be summer, when the sun won’t really set at all, when all they’ll get for nighttime is this blue-tinted twilight. He’s not worried.

He turns back to face the locked door. “Where the fuck are you?” he shouts, kicking the door on every word.

Finally, finally, sounds come from the other side.

Yuri hides his sigh of relief when Otabek opens the door.

“You look like shit,” he says, instead of hello.

It’s true, at least. His clothes are wrinkled and his hair is a mess. He looks like he just woke up, but he’s still got dark circles under his eyes.

Otabek looks him over. “You don’t,” he says with a smirk.

He looks like an absolute mess, but there’s something kinda hot about it. There’s definitely something hot about the way he’s looking at Yuri. It’s a little distracting.

Yuri kisses him. Just a quick kiss to start with, then Otabek pulls him in and closes the door behind him. Yuri leans back against the door and lets Otabek kiss all over his face, grinning at the way he has to lean up just a little bit now to do it. It’s a sort of pattern they’ve settled into. They spend their days training at the rink, and then come home to one apartment or the other afterwards and immediately make up for all the time not spent kissing during the day. Yuri wants to joke about how they pretty much live together at this point, but he doesn’t want to push his luck. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles and lets Otabek kiss him.

Yuri pulls back a moment later, though.

“But really, are you okay?” he asks. “Where were you?”

Otabek looks away. “I fell asleep on the couch,” he says.

Yuri frowns. “You don’t take naps,” he says.

Otabek shrugs. “I guess I was tired today,” he says.

“You slept in this morning, though,” Yuri says. He knows because Otabek showed up late to practice that morning, not because Otabek would’ve told him otherwise. Something’s up. He’s not sure what, but  _ something _ .

Otabek just shrugs again. Yuri’s not gonna push it if he doesn’t want to talk.

“I brought shit for dinner,” Yuri says instead, holding up a grocery bag. He sets it on the coffee table and flops onto the couch.

“Thanks, Yura,” Otabek says, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek.

Yuri used to try to hide the smiles that would spread across his face when Otabek kissed him like this, but he’s given up. It’s a small thing, which Otabek probably doesn’t even notice, but sometimes it scares him a little, all the ways he’s started letting his guard down. This thing between them happened so fast, sometimes he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“You want a drink?” Otabek asks.

“Sure,” Yuri says.

Yuri leans his head against the couch and watches Otabek as he goes into the kitchen. He loves just to watch the way he moves; there’s a sureness and a calm about him that Yuri could never hope to achieve and it fascinates him. Today, though, there’s a tiredness and a tension as well and Yuri doesn’t know what’s wrong.

Otabek comes back with their drinks and sits on the couch next to Yuri. They both pull their dinner out of the bag and Yuri shifts around to put his legs up over Otabek’s. He does it with an ease he didn’t think there would ever be between them. Even when they were friends, before either of them realized they had feelings for each other, there was still almost a strained feeling to their interactions, like they both wanted something more from them. Well, Yuri doesn’t know when exactly Otabek figured out he had feelings for him. But there was always tension and now finally it’s like most of it’s melted away.

Sometimes Yuri feels the need to hold things back, maybe watch his words a little bit. But it’s alright.

He hates to push Otabek, but he’s gotta figure out what the hell’s up with him today. The poor guy is just kinda staring at the wall across from them.

“Okay, seriously, Beka, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” he says. “You seem, like… depressed.” He’s great at this.

Otabek looks over at him with this weird expression Yuri can’t fucking read.

“I don’t know, maybe I am?” he says, like he’s not quite sure himself.

“Oh,” Yuri says. “Why?”

As soon as he says it, he wants to bash his head against the wall. He knows it’s a stupid question.

“I don’t know,” Otabek says. It’s a typical Otabek-non-answer, but in this case Yuri figures that’s fair.

“Um, can I do anything for you?” Yuri asks. “Like, to help?”

Otabek thinks about it for a moment, absentmindedly running a hand through Yuri’s hair. Yuri almost wishes he would say he needs to talk. Because Yuri absolutely hates talking about emotions and that kind of garbage, but it would be nice if Otabek would trust him with that. It’s not like he  _ has to  _ or anything. Yuri wants to respect his space, not push him too far. It might just be nice is all.

“I don’t know,” Otabek says again. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I haven’t been, you know, going out and doing stuff like I used to? I kinda just go to practice and hang out with you and that’s it.” He stops to think through what he just said. “Not like I don’t like hanging out with you! I like hanging out with you. I just… I don’t know, I miss hanging out with all my friends and DJing and that kinda stuff, you know?”

Is that really it? That’s easier than Yuri thought it would be.

“Well, shit,” he says, “we can do more stuff if you want. I know I’m not as exciting as your Almaty friends, but maybe we can find a club for you to DJ at or something.”

Otabek’s face lights up. “That might be nice,” he says.

Alright, there, that’s a concrete problem to deal with. Something tangible, something easy to work with. Yuri’s gonna be the best boyfriend and fight the hell out of Otabek’s weird depression shit. He’s gonna find him a kickass DJ job and take his boyfriend to a club and it’ll be awesome. 

“Cool,” Yuri says. “Okay, let’s fucking find somewhere for you to DJ.”

There’s just one problem…

“How the hell do you get a DJ job?”

Otabek laughs. “You gotta know somebody,” he says. “That’s the easy way.”

“Ah,” Yuri says. “I... don’t know anybody.”

“Don’t go clubbing much?” Otabek asks, still laughing a little.

Yuri frowns. “Who the hell would I go with? I didn’t exactly have friends before you showed up.”

“Oh,” Otabek says, and the smile on his face kinda dies.

It’s one of those things they don’t talk about much, try not to mention. That “you’re actually the first friend my own age I’ve ever had” thing. One of those things that makes them feel strange and uneven. Like Yuri’s shitty mom and Otabek’s split-up parents or depression or being gay versus being bi. Not all bad shit, but weird shit, the stuff that’s not the same.

“I don’t know anyone, but I know someone who does,” Yuri says.

…

**You** **  
**_ hey asshole _ _  
_ 8:13 PM

**Old Man** **  
**_ YURIO!!!!! _ _  
_ 8:17 PM

**You** **  
**_ fuck u _ _  
_ 8:23 PM

**You** **  
**_ u kno anyone who runs a club that needs a dj _ _  
_ 8:23 PM

**Old Man** **  
**_ I didn’t know you were a DJ! _ _  
_ 8:25 PM

**Old Man** **  
** _ What a talented young man! _

**You** **  
**_ not me, otabek _ _  
_ 8:34 PM

**Old Man** **  
**_ Oh. Well, your father and I still love and support you _ _  
_ 8:36 PM

**Old Man** **  
**_ Also i think I can hook you up _ _  
_ 8:37 PM

**Old Man** **  
**_ Come talk to me at practice tomorrow _ _  
_ 8:37 PM

…

Yuri shows Otabek the text from Victor.

“You’re so sweet, Yura,” he says.

Yuri’s pretty sure no one besides Otabek has ever accused him of being sweet in his life. He’s not sure “sweet” is what he’d call it, but he wants to be good to Otabek. He wants to do nice stuff for Otabek because Otabek does nice stuff for him and he likes him and all that shit. He’s in love with him.

Otabek kisses the corner of his lips and pulls Yuri closer into his arms. They cleared away the stuff left from dinner and they’re sitting together on the couch now, Otabek sitting against the arm so Yuri can lean back against his chest and he can wrap his arms around him. It’s just about Yuri’s favorite way to sit together, but now that he’s getting bigger it just doesn’t work quite the same as it did before.

Yuri wants to argue that there’s nothing sweet about him. But he’s getting tired too after the long day of skating practice and it’s not really worth it. And he’s had this sort of nagging fear lately, ridiculous but hard to shake, of joking arguments turning into real ones. It’s a stupid thing to be afraid of. They’ve never had anything close to a fight.

He folds his arms over Otabek’s, already crossed on his chest, and sinks back onto him, lets his warmth wash over him. He can feel his breathing.

Otabek seems better than he was earlier. Not great, but Yuri knows he’s not gonna get a good answer. He’ll just have to trust Otabek to take care of himself.

“Okay, so here’s what I’ve been wondering,” Yuri says.

“Hmm.” Otabek’s only half listening. He seems a lot more interested in Yuri’s hair than anything else.

“You’re a DJ, yeah?” he says. “So how come all the music you listen to is hipster garbage? I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve listened to all week is Neutral Milk Hotel.”

“I keep my work and my private life separate,” Otabek says.

Yuri doesn’t even know what to say to that.

“Do you actually play anything good or is it all just that EDM shit?” he asks.

“What are we defining as good here?” Otabek asks, amused. He leans around to kiss Yuri on the cheek again and Yuri rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he says. “The Offspring? Guns and Roses?”

“So music you like.”

“Yeah.”

“Nah, it’s mostly just EDM shit,” Otabek admits.

“Why?”

Otabek shrugs. “That’s what people like.”

“You’re a fucking sellout.” Yuri turns to give Otabek a horrified look.

Otabek laughs. “Maybe I’ll try to play something for you,” he says.

“It better not be that fucking Green Day song,” Yuri says.

“We’ll see,” Otabek says, grinning.

Yuri does his best to look annoyed, but when Otabek pulls him down into a kiss he melts into it. He twists a hand into Otabek’s hair and rests the other against his chest. Otabek wraps his arms around Yuri’s waist, pulling him in closer. It’s sweet and it’s warm and he forgets all about how weird Otabek’s been today. Because this is normal, this is how they usually are.

Yuri runs his fingers along the edge of Otabek’s collar, up his neck to cup his face with his hand. He opens his mouth against Otabek’s and he’s starting to think this is going where their nights usually end up. He doesn’t rush it, though; he lets the kiss stay slow.

After a while, Otabek pulls away. When Yuri opens his eyes, it’s not quite to the expression he was hoping for.

“I think I wanna go to sleep pretty soon,” Otabek says. “I’m… really tired.” It’s probably the least sexy way he’s ever suggested they go to bed.

“Oh, okay,” Yuri says. “That’s fine, we can head back to your room.”

Yuri kisses him again, before they disentangle themselves and head back toward the bedroom.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Otabek says. He closes himself in the bathroom before Yuri can say anything.

Yuri doesn’t give it much thought. He heads into Otabek’s room where he pulls off his clothes and dumps them in a pile on the floor. He steals a pair of Otabek’s sweatpants to sleep in, then stretches out on the bed to wait.

Otabek sure is taking fucking forever in the bathroom. He probably got distracted by something weird. A few days ago he spent an hour in the shower and when Yuri asked him what took so long he said he was thinking about how angry turtles look.

Whatever stupid shit Otabek’s distracted by this time, it’s gotta be a good ten minutes before Yuri hears the bathroom door open. He’s still holding out hope that he’ll get laid tonight. He leans back into the pillows, one arm behind his head, and raises an eyebrow at Otabek as he enters the room. It would usually be more than enough to get Otabek on top of him and sliding his hands down his pants. Instead, Otabek comes and flops face first onto the bed next to him.

Yuri frowns. He nudges him. “Otabek,” he says. “Do you want to have sex?”

“Not right now, I think,” he says, face still buried in the pillow. “I think I just want to go to sleep tonight. Sorry.”

Yuri’s kind of disappointed. He’s not going to say that, but he is, just a little bit. He can’t help wondering if he did something wrong. He can’t think of anything, though, and he’s not going to ask.

“No, that’s okay,” Yuri says. “It’s not like we have to every night or anything.”

Otabek rolls onto his side to face him. The circles under his eyes are really dark. “Sorry, Yura,” he says. “I’m just kinda… not feeling all that great today.”

“Really, it’s okay,” Yuri says. He hesitates, before the next part, and settles on a watered down version of what he really wants to say, one that can’t cause any problems.. “You know you can tell me shit, if anything’s bothering you.”

Otabek shuffles closer and wraps his arms around Yuri. “Thanks,” he says. “I’m okay, though. I just need some sleep.”

Yuri figures he can accept that. Even if Otabek doesn’t want to talk, Yuri’s going to help him, he’s going to be like the best boyfriend ever. He’s gonna make sure he gets this DJ gig. It’ll be great. He goes over things he knows about Otabek, and he figures he’s happiest when he has a whole bunch of shit to do. So if this is the help Otabek wants from him, he’ll be happy to give it.

And that night they just go to sleep.

…

The two of them corner Victor before practice the next day.

“Okay, old man,” Yuri says. “You said you know people.”

“Good morning, Yurio,” Victor says with a smile.

“That’s not his fucking name,” Otabek says.

“Good morning, Otabek,” Victor says.

Victor’s never as intimidated by them as Yuri would hope. Cornering him doesn’t really matter when he can still see straight over the tops of their heads.

Yuri folds his arms and frowns at Victor. Having to work with this asshole always makes him want to revert back to a much more shouty version of himself. But this is for Otabek, so Yuri can hold back, even if he’d like to kick the grin off Victor’s face.

“We need names, Nikiforov,” Yuri says.

“Okay,” Victor says. “Chris’ cousin has a friend--.”

“I don’t care how you know them,” Yuri interrupts.

“Chris’ cousin has a friend,” he continues, ignoring Yuri, “who we met when Chris was in town for the Rostelecom cup last year.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to hear about fucking Christophe,” Yuri says.

Victor just keeps smiling and talking like Yuri didn’t say anything. “He runs a club downtown,” he says. “I texted him last night and he said they might have an opening for a new DJ. It would be midweek shows, nothing big. But, Otabek, he said if you go in tomorrow, he’d be willing to talk with you about it more.”

Otabek blinks a couple times. Fuck, his face is adorable. “You got me a job interview?” he says.

“You’re welcome,” Victor says.

“Does this club have a name?” Yuri asks, incredulous.

“I have no idea,” Victor says with a shrug. “I’ll give you his number.”

“You’re fucking useless,” Yuri says.

“Of course,” Victor says. “All I did was get your boyfriend the job he wanted.”

Yuri loves Victor, of course, but a lot of the time he also really fucking hates Victor.

…

Otabek makes plans to go over and talk with the guy who runs the club the next evening. He gives Yuri a vague excuse about how he needs to run errands since he can’t tomorrow and after practice they go their separate ways. Yuri spends the night playing video games alone while Sasha the cat sits next to him, entirely uninterested in the world of humans.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it, Sasha?” Yuri says to the cat. “Ugh, human feelings are awful. All  _ you _ have to give a shit about is when I’m going to feed you next. It shouldn’t bother me. He doesn’t have to spend every fucking day with me. I can hang out with you instead.”

Sasha just yawns. Yuri’s sure the cat is tired of hearing about his boyfriend.

…

Yuri’s still in the middle of doing his hair when Otabek comes to pick him up the next night. He should be ready by now, but it took him forever to find a half decent outfit. He’s still not happy with what he’s got, but he doesn’t have many options. Now that he’s gotten taller, a lot of his clothes don’t fit him anymore.

He’s locked in battle with his hair in front of the mirror when he hears the knock. With a frustrated growl, he lets the braid fall out. It wasn’t working anyways.

“Come in!” he yells.

A moment later, Otabek appears behind him. “Nice,” he says, looking Yuri over.

“Not nice,” Yuri says. “I feel gross and my hair looks like shit.” He’s not sure exactly why he’s in such a bad mood tonight.

“It’s not bad,” Otabek says. “I like your outfit.”

“Ugh, yours is so much better,” Yuri says.

It’s true. Otabek’s got a leather jacket and fingerless gloves, a dress shirt with the top couple buttons open, showing the tattoos under his collarbones. Yuri’s outfit on the other hand is wrinkled, pulled off the floor of his closet. He couldn’t even find any leopard print to wear.

“Well, you still look pretty hot,” Otabek says.

He also looks better today, emotions-wise. At least better than the day he fell asleep on the couch. Not quite normal, but something closer to it.

“That’s gay.”

“Yeah, so are you,” Otabek says. “And really hot.”

He pulls Yuri into a kiss before Yuri knows what’s happening. Otabek pushes him against the wall, slides a hand into his hair. It’s a deep kiss, with their bodies flush against each other. And then it’s done.

It leaves Yuri wanting so much more. They have somewhere to be, though, and there’ll be time later. Unless tonight goes like the last night they were together. Yuri isn’t always sure what to expect.

“Do you want some help with your hair?” Otabek asks.

“No, we should go,” he says. “I’ll just wear a hat.” They should go before he has time to overthink the hell out of everything.

He watches Otabek out of the corner of his eye as he digs through the piles of clothes in his room, looking for his beanie and the leather jacket with the spikes. He’s trying to gauge how Otabek’s feeling today, because it’s near fucking impossible to tell unless Otabek wants to talk, which Otabek doesn’t. Ever. He hopes this is helping him. He hopes he’s as good a boyfriend as he’s trying to be. Because, shit, he wants to be, but it’s hard when Otabek doesn’t give him much to go off.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Yuri says, pulling the beanie down over the mess of his hair.

“You’re adorable,” Otabek says.

“Shut up,” Yuri says, trying not to smile.

They make their way out of the apartment and down to where Otabek’s motorcycle is parked on the street.

“So, are you nervous?” Yuri asks, hoping Otabek will say something, anything at all about how he’s feeling.

“It’s just a job interview,” Otabek says with a dismissive gesture. “A really casual one. I mean, the worst that could happen is I have to find somewhere else to DJ.”

He tosses Yuri the spare helmet and puts on his own.

They head out and the wind is too loud to talk over, leaving Yuri with his arms around his boyfriend and no company but his own thoughts. He’s never had a job interview himself, so he wouldn’t know whether it’s something to be nervous about. It’s one of those things, those normal teenage things he’s never experienced. Part of some distant world more real than his own, one he has no place in. That world with high school and clubs and friends the same age.

Otabek’s not quite part of that real world either, but it feels like he’s a lot closer to it than Yuri’s ever been. Another place they don’t quite match up. Another thing to not talk about.

Maybe he wants Otabek to be nervous too because he sure is. He’s never been to a club before, except the time he followed Otabek in Barcelona and got kicked out after he’d been there five minutes. It’s stupid to be nervous, to make such a big deal out of it. He hates when he does this kind of shit.

It’s twilight when they get there, the last of the sunset light fading and the stars coming out in the sky above them. The club’s in an old warehouse and Yuri can hear the music from inside as soon as Otabek turns off the motorcycle.

“I have to go find Chris’-friend’s-cousin’s-roommate’s-brother whatever the hell he is,” Otabek says as they head up to the door. “You can hang out and I’ll meet up with you when I’m done, okay?”

“Alright,” Yuri says. 

They show the bouncer their IDs at the door. It’s the first time Yuri’s used his for anything other than buying booze.

“See you in a bit,” Otabek says, leaning over to kiss Yuri’s cheek.

“Good luck,” Yuri says.

And then Otabek is gone and Yuri is alone in a big room full of people he doesn’t know and flashing lights and music so loud he can feel it in his chest. He’s… not sure he likes this. Shit.

Yuri can’t think what to do with himself now. It’s not like he’s gonna dance alone in a room full of strangers. No, fuck that. It would be like all the bad parts of skating and none of the good ones. Not to mention he knows ballet, not whatever the hell these people are doing.

He wanders to the bar and orders a drink. He thinks it’s cool that he can finally do this himself. And then he thinks it’s stupid he’s entertained by this. And then he’s bored again.

The drink is bad.

Shit, he almost hopes Otabek won’t end up DJing here. He doesn’t want to get dragged here and have to wait and be bored like this every fucking weekend. Would it be every weekend? He has no idea how any of this works.

That’s awful of him to think, though. He wants to be supportive. Just maybe not like this….

Out of nowhere, a girl materializes. She slides into the seat next to him.

“Hey,” she says.

What the hell? Oh fuck is she trying to flirt? At least she doesn’t seem to recognize him, which would be even worse. Either way, he doesn’t respond.

“So what are you doing here?” she asks.

He wants to say something like “the same thing as everyone else, what the hell do you think?” But he settles for the answer that will get rid of her sooner. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” he says.

Somehow she doesn’t seem to take the hint. “I can keep you company until he gets back,” she says, twirling her hair around her fingers.

He really wants to just tell her to fuck off.

“I’m, like, a hundred percent gay,” he says. “You’re not going to have any luck here. Also, I just fucking told you I have a boyfriend.”

“Shit, fine, you don’t need to be an asshole about it,” she says.

She strides off without giving him another look. He flips her off as she walks away, then turns back to his drink.

This club is bullshit. He’s so over this. He pulls out his phone, hoping maybe Otabek has texted him, but it’s only been like ten minutes. He tries to scroll through Facebook, anything to kill the time. It’s too fucking loud to focus on anything.

He wonders if girls hit on Otabek when he’s out in places like this. He knows Otabek would  _ never _ do anything with anybody else; he’s just annoyed by the thought of someone else thinking they might be able to do anything with Otabek. A terrible thought follows, twisting in his stomach. Who might Otabek date after him? Would it be worse if it was a guy or a girl? Would it matter? Shit.

It’s a useless thought. A “cross that bridge when it’s burning” kind of thing. It’s not like he’s planning on breaking up with Otabek any time soon. Statistically speaking or whatever, he’s probably not going to spend the rest of his life with the first person he’s ever dated, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

He wishes he could stomp on thoughts like they were bugs. Smash them under his feet so they ooze goo and can’t keep moving anymore.

He’s done with this.

He finishes his drink and gets up and heads for the exit. Once the door closes behind him, muffling the music, he lets out a long sigh of relief. He moves out of sight of the bouncer, to a place around the corner by where Otabek parked the motorcycle. He won’t have to see other people over here.

It’s fully dark now, probably for one of the last times until the autumn. The stars are hard to see through the city lights, but they’re still there. Leaning against the building, he can feel the music humming through the walls.

He figures he should text Otabek.

**You** **  
**_ too loud, went outside _ _  
_ 10:24 PM

**Beka <3<3<3** **  
**_ Okay. I’ll be done soon. _ _  
_ 10:28 PM

Yuri still spends a good half hour scrolling through Facebook in the parking lot before he  _ finally _ looks up to see Otabek walking toward him.

“How’d it go?” Yuri calls.

“Not sure,” Otabek says. “He said he’d text me.”

“That’s good, yeah?”

“Well, it’s not a no.”

Otabek comes to lean against the wall next to him and laces their fingers together. Yuri has to look down just a little bit now to meet his eyes. It’s strange. He sort of always knew he would end up being taller, but now that he’s here he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Are you good?” Otabek asks.

“Yeah,” Yuri says. “It was just loud in there.”

“Competitions are loud,” Otabek says. “Those never seem to bother you.”

“That’s different,” Yuri says.

“You only like crowds when they’re cheering for you?” Otabek says with a grin.

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Sure. Something like that.”

“You sure you’re good, though?” Otabek asks again. Like he’s not the one who was depression napping on the couch the other day.

“No, it was just loud and I was bored and this fucking straight girl was hitting on me.”

“Ah,” Otabek says. And that’s all he says.

He’s not gonna tell Otabek about the other bullshit, wondering if he might date somebody else after Yuri. That’s not exactly something he can talk about. Like “hey we might break up sometime and end up dating other people.” He can’t say that when everything between them still feels so delicate. Like if he pushes too hard it might shatter.

Why is everything so hard? Why can’t he just enjoy this, here and now? Otabek next to him, the feel of their fingers intertwined.

The silence stretches between them.

“ _ You’re _ okay, right?” Yuri asks quietly. All the sounds around them are so muffled, it would feel wrong to raise his voice. He can’t speak louder than the music on the other side of the wall or the traffic out on the road. It’s a quiet night, for quiet thoughts. Quiet worries.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Otabek says. It’s a little too flippant, a little too loud for Yuri’s taste right now.

Yuri shifts his hand, holding Otabek’s tighter. He pulls him just a little closer.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” Yuri says. “You know you can tell me shit. If you want. I’ll listen.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says.

Yuri looks at him, then up to where the stars are trying so hard to shine their way through all the lights of the city. He looks back at Otabek beside him.

Otabek meets his gaze. His dark eyes are so warm, but Yuri can’t shake the feeling there’s some sort of distance there.

Yuri’s in love with this boy. He’s known that for a long time. And that’s why he’s scared to fuck this all up. Maybe they’re both scared. They edge their way around conversations, tone down their affection with joking insults. Yuri knows they do it and he’s pretty sure Otabek does too. They feed each other the scraps they’re not too scared to let go of.

But, shit, Yuri could starve to death in those eyes.

Maybe he’s reading too much into this. Making shit up. This is all so damn dramatic.

“Thanks,” Otabek says eventually. “For this. It was really nice of you to help me.”

“I didn’t do all that much.”

“Still, it was nice of you.”

“I don’t mind,” Yuri says. “I like you. I wanna do nice shit for you.”

The “I like you” doesn’t quite cut it. But why does he want to push things so hard? They don’t need to rush this. They don’t need to get in over their heads. He should just fucking enjoy this where they are now.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Otabek asks.

“Oh please no,” Yuri says.

“Do you want to go home then?” Otabek asks. Yuri’s not entirely sure, but he thinks there might be some kind of promise in that.

“Sure,” he says.

He leans in to kiss Otabek and is met with enough tongue and teeth to confirm his suspicions. It’s  _ hot _ , but it’s quick. It’s enough to tell him tonight won’t go like the last two. He’ll get what he’s looking for.

“You want to go to your place?” Otabek says, a little distracted. “I bet Sasha’s been lonely.”

“Yeah, why not,” Yuri says as they make their way back to the motorcycle.

“Hmm,” Otabek says. “Did you used to have a different cat?”

“What?” Yuri says. “No. I’ve only ever had the one.”

“I thought he had a different name, though,” Otabek says. “Something like Puma--.”

“His name has only ever been Sasha. Shut up. Never mention this again.”

When they get back on the motorcycle, Yuri is left alone with his thoughts again, but it’s not for so long this time.

**Author's Note:**

> stay tuned.....
> 
> (or, now that it's posted, go read 21st Century Breakdown)


End file.
